


The Tiniest Amount of Space

by Bilinski_stiles_stilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bruises, Hurt Stiles, Other, Protective Derek, Scott is a Bad Friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-03-16 09:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13633743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bilinski_stiles_stilinski/pseuds/Bilinski_stiles_stilinski
Summary: Stiles knows that after too long without his Adderall he can't keep his mouth shut or his body still. Not that he could with it, but in such a small space-er-cell, he better learn fast.---Pack is kidnapped and Stiles can't help being the main source for trouble.





	1. Chapter 1

_Drip Drip Drip._

_Steady dripping is the only other sounds of the room sans the packs breathing. No one talks, no one moves. The cell is big enough for them to horse around in but it's dimly lit. It's cold. It's not home. where they would all kill to be right now. The air is wet and moldy, and stale. Sometimes there's a small breeze that they can feel but no one knows where it comes from. That's the only refreshing thing they've had the pleasure of experiencing in the last four and a half days._

 

Stiles has never been in such a small room before. Not like this one. Granted the supply closet at school is pretty small but he only ducks in there when his panic attacks hit him and he’d rather avoid the bathroom since the last time he had one in there he passed out and someone called his dad and really he would have been fine if they’d just given him a few minutes to come to…..The walls are floating in. He sees them moving. It’s like red light green light in the corner of his eye but he sees them creeping closer to him. If he wasn’t so cold he’s sure he’d feel the wall behind him slowly pushing him across the floor. Inching forward like the foamy build up of whale secretion he’s seen slowly make its way up the beach that one time in maine last summer…. Someone else is speaking….someone besides the hushed whispers of the pack. They talk so no one can hear, but stiles can pick up on sounds of their lips hitting each other with every P or B. But theres another voice. Someone is whispering slithery untrusting words somewhere, in the walls maybe. Maybe they’re pushing the room together. Stiles should tell the pack….he should let them know that they’re making the room smaller so they can hear the packs plans. Stiles should say something. Stiles-

“Stiles.”

_The walls. They keep moving in closer, im going to lose my mind in this room. I need space, I need fresh air. Oh-oh god no, stiles calm down, you cannot have a panic attack right now, not in this room. They’re too tense as it is. You’re gonna get your throat ripped out-_

“Stiles.” Derek growls. Stiles’ head snaps up at the sound of his name. Derek is looming over him, his eyes blue. Stiles hugs his legs tighter, his eyes blown wide. Derek sits next to him, the pack is watching. 

"The walls-"

"Stiles, do me a favor and breathe." Lydia is next to him. When did Lydia get next to him?

"M'Breathing L-dyia" He says, unfocused eyes trying to meet hers. But there's three of her wavering in and out of focus. He's hyperventilating. "M-dizzy-"

"Stiles..."Derek puts an uncertain hand on Stiles arm, bringing his attention to him. Stiles blinks slowly, his breath coming in short puffs of air. There's a look in Dereks eyes, he stiffens and then the soft touch he had on Stiles turns into a grip. Stiles' head drops down to acknowledge it and his vision goes dark. 

"Derek-" Lydia says starting forward.

"I felt it coming, I have him" Derek says, moving Stiles limp form to rest on the floor, his head in Derek's lap. Derek looks uncomfortable, not knowing what to do with his hands. He puts them on the floor to either side of him. 

"He needs his medication" Scott says from across the room. He looks exhausted despite himself. Allison watches Stiles with a pitied expression. Derek doesn't hold her gaze for very long. 

"He'll get it. As soon as we get out of here" Derek says. 

"You said that two days ago" Jackson chimes in. 

"We're getting out of here. All of us."

"Not with the fucking tazers they have and the mountain ash covering these walls. They have the advantage. And with the cameras in here? They always will"

Isaac clicks his tongue. 

"with an attitude like that it's no wonder we're still here"

"if you knew shit about fighting we'd be a lot better off. We're only as strong as our weakest link-"

"Both of you shut up" Scott says. "seriously."

"And what do you have to say Mccall? Your girlfriend is not the most important person in here. If you let her go for three seconds we might be able to go the fuck home"

 

The door clicks, the sounds of metal scraping against each other fills the room. The wolves wince at the sharp noise. It swings open, and a man steps into the room. He's as large as Derek, but meaner. Meatier. He could break your arm in two with one flick of wrist, and they saw that last time Scott tried to ambush him at the door. They don't even try anymore. He does the same thing each time. Speak a lot, pick a person, do the damage and leave. They haven't even told the pack why they're there yet. What they want. Isaac is sure they're just having fun with them. But Derek is nervous. Because it's been four days, and he's picked a new person each time. The wolves have all gone. Now it's just the girls and Stiles. The humans. 

Another man walks in, and another. Derek grabs Stiles shirt out of anxiety, fisting it in his hand. 

"Goodmorning" He says. "It's morning. I know, I know, I should invest in some windows but something tells me we wouldn't be having this conversation if I was that nice"

He laughs to himself as more men enter the room. There's seven of them now. 

"I can see the wheels turning in your head already Derek. It's day four. Ive had the pleasure of kicking each and every one of your furry asses and now, it's time for me to pick another" He smiles. "Oh! But you know what...there's no more wolves to test. Guess I'm going to have to pick one of these beautiful ladies or little red over there"

"Pick me" Allison says. Scott grabs her hands tightly as she sits up. 

"How cute" The man steps into the room a bit further. "But I think my eye's are set on little red over there, sleeping like a baby"

He motions to Stiles. 

"Derek, do me a favor and wake him up"

"He passed out" Derek grits through his teeth. 

"Well figure out how to un pass him out then because I have somewhere to be in forty five"

"I'll take you on" Derek says, his veins turn black as he pulls pain from Stiles. "me and you or me and all of you. I'll take it for him"

"That's kind of you. But I've been eyeing him since we brought you all in. Tell you what, I'm going to step outside and make a call. When I come back, he better be ready to go"

"Please" Scott says, standing. "I'll do it. I'll fight you you piece of shit"

 

The man smiles, watches Scott for a moment and then turns to leave. 

"It's the entertainment you want right? I'll fight one of my own"

He stops at the door. 

"I'm listening"

"I'll fight one of my own. I'll fight Isaac. I'll fight Jackson. I'll fight Derek-"

"Fight stiles." He says, looking Scott dead in the eye. "Fight your best friend"

 

Scott gapes for a moment, his hands clenching and unclenching. Scott can hear Isaac whispering from the other side of the moldy dark room. 

"Scott, do it. You know when to stop"

"What are the terms-"

"draw blood." The man smiles. 

"His nose, Scott, do it"

Scott thinks. He can hear Derek whispering to Stiles, the sounds of Stiles coming to. Scott doesnt' take his eyes off of the man, or his six other assholes. 

"Fine-"

"But you don't tell him. You start when I say and you fullfill my request"

"Fine." Scott says. The man smiles and steps into the hallway. It's so dark out there the man disappears into the shadows. Nothing about the hallway is any different than in here. This isnt' someones basement holding cell. They're in a legitimate building, Scott almost wants to call it a dungeon in a castle or something. It has the same wet moldy smell, the same chill. 

 

Derek sits Stiles up and holds his head steady. Stiles blinks, and recognizes Dereks face immediately. 

"I'm sorry" Stiles says after a moment. Derek drops his hands. Stiles turns around and notices the men in the room. When he looks back at Derek he knows. "It's my turn isn't it"

"I'm sorry" Derek says. Stiles turns back to him.

Derek nods, his jaw clenched. Stiles stretches his legs on the dirty cold cobblestone. The man re-enters the room and Stiles stands, unsteady at first. When he goes to take a step forward Derek grabs his wrist. 

"It's okay Derek" Stiles says. He twists his hand out of Dereks grip. 

Stiles starts for the front of the room, he walks slowly, his stiff legs apparent. The man is watching him with an amused expression, stiles hands are clammy with anticipation. Stiles always knew that at some point he'd be in a situation like this, where the pack would watch the poor human get beaten to a pulp while he embarrassingly tried to hold his own. He just prayed that maybe they wouldnt watch the whole pathetic exchange. This is what he signed up for. What he wanted to sign up for. Stiles always knew there was a chance that he'd be within an inch of his life but he knew he'd be doing it for the pack. For his pack. What he didn't know, was how good of a left hook Scott had when his fist crashed into the side of his face from behind an ominous pillar in the room. He didn't know he could hit the ground so hard despite the saying the bigger they are the harder they fall. stiles was 145 pounds of pure anxiety and sleepless nights. But that didn't matter when he dropped like a bag of bricks into the cobble stone floor. His arm saved his head from spilling its contents open for everyone to see, but the hit was still bone crushing. That would bruise up real nice he thought. 

"hnnh" he breathed out, suddenly breathless. Scott towered over him, turning him onto his back. Stiles' face hurt so much he couldn't make a questioning expression when Scott pulled his arm back to take another hit. What did he do?


	2. pack relations

Stiles spits out some blood over his shoulder. His hoodie is ruched up his torso, his belly covered in coming-to bruises. The room is quiet save the pained breaths escaping his mouth and, despite himself, Scott's panting. Stiles wiggles his fingers, his fucked up face tremors with painful twitches. A little more blood drips from the corner of his mouth, sticky and slow, touching the ground before it breaks off, the drip climbing back up towards his lips. 

He's never heard his ribs sound quite like this. I mean, sure, he's used to the typical "I just felt like hurting you" bullshit he goes through with Derek and Jackson, and with the way the lacrosse team enjoys using him like a rag doll, and the bullying he endured before Scott got fucking super powers- the list goes on, but he still has never been in this much pain. Not since Gerard got him, not since ever. 

"f-fuck sc-scotty" He wheezes, eyes watering. 

His hand trembles down to his exposed stomach, looking for the hem of his red hoodie so he can cover his bruises. He finds the fabric, pulling as hard as he can to move it. It barely budges, his arms tremble from the effort. 

"Leave it little red. Those bruises'll suit you in a few hours" The dickhead at the door cooed. He crossed his arm comfortably, leaning against the door frame. 

"I'm done" Scott spat, clenching and un-clenching his fists. The bruises on his knuckles hadn't begun to fade yet, they were still a nasty purple and green, running the length of his fingers and spilling to the backside of is hand.

"I don't remember those words coming out of my mouth, Scott." He turns to his goons. "Do you? Do you? no, didn't think so"

"You said make him bleed. I did. You said bruise him, I did. I'm not doing anything else!"

"Oh...Scott-" He says, moving forward. 

"He can't take anymore, please!" Lydia says, coming forward. One of the goons grabs her arm immediately. Jackson stands and the guy takes out his taser in a flash of movement. 

"Everyone, lets calm down. I'm having fun, let's not ruin it"

"He's has enough"

"Has he, Scott?"

 

The man moves into the room now, dropping the taser by his side. He walks straight up to Scott, stands next to him, turning him to face Stiles. Stiles is still sprawled out on the cobblestone floor, his breathing obviously coming in short pants. He legs are stretched out in whatever way they were when he first fell. He looks stiff and uncomfortable. Scott tries not to watch him make a pathetic attempt at making himself more comfortable on the floor. The man places his hand on Scotts shoulder. 

"Look at that Scott. You did that" He shakes him a bit. "You."

"get the fuck off of me you sick son-"

 

The man grips the back of Scotts neck, standing so close his breath moves his hair. He clicks the taser once to let Scott know he shouldn't do anything. Scott stands still. 

 

"Please man" Scott whispers. 

 

The man watches Scott a moment. He lets go of him and turns in a full 360, tossing his hands in the air. 

 

"You took the fun out of this Scott" he says. He turns around a motion for his goons to follow. "We'll be back later for one of you beautiful ladies. count on it. maybe we'll have another show huh?"

 

The heavy door shuts with a loud bang. The room falls silent. Derek moves from the shadows of the edge of the cell, coming to stand over Stiles. He doesn't speak to anyone. He just looks over him for a while. 

 

"Derek-" Scott starts. 

 

Derek moves with sharp, unsteady motions. First dropping besides Stiles, his hands hovering. A shaky hand meets his arm and Derek grips it firmly, the black lines racing up his own arm. He latches on then with another hand, and then he picks Stiles up with a grunt and retreats to the shadows. Scott watches with a pained expression. 

\---------

"hnnhh" Stiles bites out as Derek sits with him, trying to make him comfortable. 

"I'm sorry-"

"It's okay" Stiles assures through his tears. He bites his lip again. 

"I'm so sorry Stiles-I-fuck-"

His head lolls, Derek positions himself so he is seated behind Stiles, giving his legs up as pillows. He's still pulling his pain, going dizzy with it, but refusing to stop. 

"Der'k" Stiles mumbles.

"shh Stiles" Derek covers his mouth as gently as he can. 

 

Suddenly Lydia is there, tears spill down her face. She gives Derek a nod and then sits down next to them, grabbing a hold of Stiles hand. Derek begins to pull away, the black lines fading. Lydia stops him. 

"If I keep going he'll pass out"

"let him" She says quietly. She moves to lay next to him, watching as his eyes move wildly under his lids. She gets as close as she can. She knows she's no werewolf, and can't provide the body heat of one by a long shot, but she needs him to know she's there. She needs him to know. 

"It's okay Stiles...I'm here..." She whispers, giving his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back, and she watches as his eyes slowly begin to slow down, his breath evening. "I'll always be here"

\-----  
Scott is sat on the other side of the room. His hands have healed but theres still blood on them. The way he sees it, there will always be blood on them. He did that to protect Stiles. He did that FOR stiles. He keeps repeating that to himself over and over again. No one talks. No one moves. Scott doesn't move. He can't. He did that for Stiles. To protect Stiles. He'll always protect Stiles. But why does he feel so bad? Why do his hands ache with more than just the pain from physical contact. Why does his heart hurt? If he had let that man get a hold of his best friend they might be cowering over more than just blood and bruises. The guy hasn't said a word about why he has them there, or what he wants. He just keeps beating the shit out of everyone and Scott did this to save Stiles but why does he feel like he just helped that guy with his master plan...He gave him more than what he was looking for. He allowed him to pit him against his own friend-but did he really? Scott did that to help Stiles. To SAVE Stiles. He SAVED STILES-  
"Scott" Allison is in front of him. Isaac is standing behind her. "breathe"  
"what?" Scott forces out.  
"You aren't breathing Scott"  
He gives Allison a unbelievable look and then it's there, the tears, the heavy breathing. Allison moves forward with urgency, pulling him into a warm embrace and Scott cries into her shoulder and it's so soft and comfortable and he doesn't deserve this. He pushes her away.  
"Scott-"  
"I can't right now" He says. "not when he's-"  
"Scott" She says firmly. "You did the right thing. You hear me?"  
"Look at him Allison" he moans. "Look at what I did"  
"What you had to do" she corrects. "Not what you wanted to do."  
He drops his arms in defeat and she reclaims her place in his arms. Isaac moves away, back to the far wall to sit by himself. He looks over at Derek and Lydia and the ever so human Stiles. He hasn't breathed through his nose since Scott took the first hit. He never wants to smell the blood of a loved one ever again in his life. Especially not that of Stiles. He was hyperactive, never shut up, paid too much attention to those who never gave a damn about him, and he was pack. Isaac knew what it felt like not to have anyone give a shit about you. So he gave a lot of shits about Stiles. A lot. Stiles was his pack, his friend. And now his friend is sprawled out across Dereks lap, not one untouched part of him visible. Isaac remembers how his dad used to paint him in bruises just like that.  
Isaac shakes his head sadly. Stiles didn't deserve that. Stiles would never deserve that. Never.  
"Isaac?" Jackson calls.  
"Im going to kill him" he growls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any feedback is welcome. pls dont be too mean :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I was posting like months ago? yeah....about that.
> 
>  
> 
> Also I really have no idea where this is going so surprise!

Isaac stands, eyes focused on the doorframe.

"I'm gonna kill that bastard"

"Isaac, you need to sit down" Jackson demands, standing up.

Isaac glances at him, takes a step closer to the door, eyes wild with excitement.

"I think I'm gonna start with his teeth. Pull em one by one-"

"Isaac you need to calm down, and think about this"

"Theres nothing to think about." He says, smiling. He takes another step.

"Yes there is, don't be a fucking idiot! He's successfully kicked our ass multiple times the past few days. None of us can take him or his seven henchmen so lets sit the fuck down together and think this out!!"

Isaac turns to face him sharply, Jackson crouches in a defensive manner, but he looks scared and unsure. No ones ever seen Isaac like this before. He's smiling like he's the happiest man alive. His arms are loose as they swing beside him from the turn, moving like a rag doll. His eyes are glazed over with insanity. Jackson takes a half step back with one foot. He raises his hands.

"Isaac, this room is too goddamned small to be fighting each other, we need to save our energy for our plan-"

"and what plan is that? Jackson? What grand scheme have we come up with that's going to make the last four days worth it. To make Stiles worth it"

"I-I don't know just yet but we'll figure something out I swear to you, just, just sit down for me"

"No thank you" he says. "Whats the plan"

Jackson swallows hard, looking around the room for help. Scott watches on in an exhausted manner. He blinks slowly at the two of them, eyes still red from crying. He's just about given up on everything. His hands now tainted with the pain and blood of his best friend, who deserved literally everything but what Scott thought was helping him. When did they become so weak? When did it become to easy to get the entire pack enclosed in some torture chamber were none of them could manage to escape? They trained for stuff like this, practiced this, over and over again! Did it all mean nothing?! 

"Maybe if, if we all tried together we could take them down or-"

"Yeah...we've been there already." He switches his weight to the other foot. 

"Dude...help me out" Jackson says to Scott. 

"It's no use, both of you just sit down and try to preserve your energy"

Isaac doesn't even turn his head in Scott's direction, eye fixated on Jackson. Jackson snarls and clenches his fists. Issac brings one hand up to scratch his face, the other gives it support as he rests it across his torso. 

"Lemme tell you what I'm gonna do, Jackson. I'm gonna wait until that bastard walks in, and I'm gonna kick him so hard his lungs collapse. Then, I'm gonna take each of his teeth out one by one with my bare fucking hands. And then I'm gonna go around, and do the same for all of his little friends. And then," He finally turns toward Scott. "And then I'm gonna start on your teeth, Scott-" 

"ISAAC!-"

Isaac spins to face Jackson, his face hardened. He points a finger at him. 

"And I swear to God, Jackson if you get in my fucking way I'm going to kill you. Do you fucking understand? Do all of you  _fucking_ understand?!"

He turns around to get a full look at everyone. His face is breaking, lips quivering as the tears well in his eyes. 

"And then I'm going to call the Sheriff, and wait til he get's here to take Stiles home and then I'm going to start on the rest of you. And then me-"

"Isaac why are you saying this-" Allison starts. He focuses in on her, his eyes brimmed red. He points a finger at her, takes a few steps closer. Scott stretches out a hand in front of her protectively.

"Because we all sat and watched! We all gave him up for the easy way out, bones cracking, blood splattering and all. WE watched that. WE let that happen. I'm going to make sure it won't happen again."

 

Scott finally stands, his face contorted with confusion, his eyes brimmed red too. He holds a hand out towards Isaac to stop him. Theres a small pause where the only noises in the room are everyones breathing. Isaacs panting, Jacksons heavy breaths laced with anger, and Stiles pained wheezes. Scotts hand shakes, hovering in the air. He takes a step towards Isaac. 

"I did what I had to, I did what was best" Scott justifies. 

"What's best is getting out of here-"

" _what's best_ is surviving! I did what was needed to survive!"

"oh?! And how is that working with Stiles half dead in the corner there?" Isaac turns to Derek, who is still cradling an unconscious Stiles. He's watching the altercation with an unreadable expression. "How's he doing over there derek? Is he going downhill as fast as I can hear it?"

"What are you talking about" Scott growls.

"don't you hear it 'Scotty'? Don't you hear how his breaths come in more strained then the last?" Isaac steps forward and takes a swing at Scott that he easily dodges. Tears start to roll down Isaacs face. "Don't you fucking hear him dying?! Good job, you fuckin asshole. You gave him a real show. You could have gone a little easier on him. Tell me, did you get all of your anger out? Did it make up for every time he's annoyed you, every time he's embarrassed you?"

"What are you saying" Scott whispers.

"You didn't have to go that far but you did. So tell me Scott. Did every hit make you feel better for every time you got teased for being his friend? for keeping him around? I tell you what. He should have kicked your ass. If he could take his anger out on you you'd be dead twice over, you know why? Because you suck. You suck at being a friend, you suck at being his Alpha, you suck at being his brother. He has sacrificed his life so many goddamn times for you and you can't seem to stop repaying him by filling all your time with this bitch."

"Isaac." Allison warns. 

"oh you're next" Isaac counters, shutting her up. "You could have warned him you'd swing. Prepare him for a fall that could have given him a concussion. You could have come up with a why to fight him, a way to protect him, you could have bought him more time! But I bet you said to yourself, if I do this now, maybe I can spare Allison. Correct me if I'm wrong Scott."

Scott looks like he's been slapped in the face. Allison glances up at him, then stands to her feet. 

"Isaac thats enough, you're upset and you're saying things you don't mean-"

"Do you know how many times Stiles has saved Scotts life. Our lives? How many times he's put all of us first, without second thought. Taken hits for us behind our backs, hiding the bruises and scratches so he can continue the research and not get shit for it. You wanna know how I know? I can see the makeup. He's terrible at applying it. Just like I used to be. I know what it's like to not have anyone give a shit about you. To not have one single person in the world that wonders if you're okay today. If you slept well, if you're eating enough. Stiles gave more shits about us, than we could  _ever_ repay him. And what does he ask for in return? To be cared for. For someone to give a shit about him. And we can't even do that. We boss him around. Never say thank you for the hours upon hours he spends researching and saving our asses. We are greedy. We are pathetic. He's the one who's human but we're the ones acting like don't have a heart. A soul. Fuck all of you. When that man walks in I'm going to kill him. And then-"

"Isaac..." a small wheeze comes from the back of the room. 

Isaac turns to face Stiles and Derek. Derek is watching Stiles, who hasn't moved. Isaac moves closer. 

"Stiles-"

"Isaac..." comes his voice again. "It's okay"

Isaac process the statement before his face contorts into anger and he balls up his fists. 

"It's not!" he roars.

"It's okay..." Stiles whispers. He coughs and then winces, the sound is wet and rough. He sucks in a breath. "I forgive you...all...okay?"

And then he's silent again. Isaac releases a sob and punches a nearby pillar. The sounds of his wrist breaking fill the room. Jackson is there in an instant, hesitating before wrapping his arms around Isaac and falling with him to the floor where he tries to hold back tears as Isaac loses it. Jackson strokes his hair, resting his face against Isaacs. 

Scott sits back down, more distraught than he was before. Allison sits with him, but they don't touch. Scott buries his face in his hands, crying again. He's always done all that he could for Stiles. Right? He's at least tried. He got him a spot on the Lacrosse team, he made sure to invite him to all the parties. That's what friends did. They make sure you're there beside them at all times. And then scott thinks of every time Stiles hasn't been with him. How he spent countless game nights at Allisons house, at parties Stiles was specifically banned from, just for being him. Scott went to those places and had a good time, always had an excuse, always made promises to Stiles that he would break the very next weekend. Isaac was right. Scott is a terrible friend. Scott is a terrible brother. He justified all of his actions, said that stiles needed to catch up. needed to be better at lacrosse, have a girlfriend, do all the normal things a high school teenager would do. But Stiles was normal without those things because he had others...he had Stiles things that Stiles did, and Scott...Scott should have been there with him every time. 

Scott wipes his eyes. 

It doesn't matter what happened in the past. Scott was going to be the one to get him out. Get them all out. He needed to get himself together and act like the damn Alpha he should be. Like the Alpha he is. 

"I'm sorry" he says to the room. Isaac whines. "I know I've been terrible. I get it now...I'm going to get you all out of here. No matter the cost."

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is pretty bad but I just wanted to get it out there because I've been thinking about it for a minute now.


End file.
